


sugar in the raw

by hamiltrashed



Series: Sunrise/Sunset [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sequel, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 02:32:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4859696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamiltrashed/pseuds/hamiltrashed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Daryl confronts Rick about his (badly-hidden) secret in the guard tower, Rick thinks he'll be angry with him. But it quickly becomes clear that anger is the last thing on Daryl's mind, and that he intends to give Rick a hell of a lot more than just fantasies. [This is the sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4738064">la petite mort</a>.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	sugar in the raw

**Author's Note:**

  * For [no_path_untaken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_path_untaken/gifts).



> So, this is the much requested follow up to [la petite mort](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4738064) (I say "much" requested but really it was like, six people :D). I'm super appreciative that you guys liked the first part enough to want a second, and could only think to thank you by actually writing it! Much love!
> 
> Beta'd by the fantastic Michelle_A_Emerlind, and gifted to my awesome wifey, no_path_untaken, for being the bestest friend a person could ask for.

Rick finally wanders down from the tower and back toward the prison, having sat there staring at Daryl’s poncho, undecided on what to do for an entire half hour. In the end, he’d just awkwardly covered it up with some of the blankets (as if that helped when they all smelled like him now, like sex, were themselves covered in precome) and shoved the pile back into the corner of the tower, as if by pushing it into the shadows, he could will it out of existence.

It isn’t really that Rick is _ashamed_ , because he kind of isn’t. It’s more that his mind is spinning off in a thousand different directions, trying to come up with an excuse, or better than that, a _reason_ for this that won’t get him punched in the face. He can’t exactly just walk up to Daryl and say, “I need you like I need to breathe, and also I have extremely detailed fantasies about us. Oh, and by the way, I just came all over your belongings. See ya later!”

So Rick tries his best to avoid Daryl when he gets back inside the prison, heading into his cell before anyone can say anything to him. They all look too tired anyway, most of them just waking up, and only Carol gives a half-hearted, sleepy nod in his direction before he ducks inside and falls face down onto the mattress. Daryl wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but that doesn’t mean anything. Rick knows he’s always up before everyone else, and he could be anywhere. 

Rick buries his face against his pillow and groans, trying his best to find sleep even though it hangs just out of his reach like a taunt. The universe is going to force him to stay awake and imagine absolutely all the different possibilities of what will happen if and when Daryl finds his things. Or worse, if someone else does.

He lies there for a long time, is finally _just_ drifting off, dying for at least a twenty minute nap before he has to go back outside, when Daryl strolls right into his cell without bothering to announce himself. Rick jumps up, suddenly wide awake, aware that a guilt he doesn’t really feel must be all over his face. The problem with getting up is that the cells aren’t very big, and that doesn’t leave a lot of space - maybe a foot and a half at best - between himself and Daryl. Not that it matters, because Daryl takes one small step and has Rick in his grip.

Daryl walks Rick backward and presses him up against the wall, gets so close that Rick can’t help but breathe him in just like he did on his blankets and his poncho, something that clearly doesn’t go unnoticed by Daryl. One fist is curled in Rick’s shirt, and he leans in so Rick can see fierce blue eyes and nothing else.

“I know what you did,” he murmurs, his words ghosting across Rick’s mouth. “I’m going for a hunt, but we’re gonna have a _long_ talk about this when I get back.”

And then he’s gone, so quickly that Rick could have imagined the whole thing if his shirt wasn’t wrinkled where Daryl had grabbed at it, if he couldn’t still feel Daryl against him, if he weren’t already half-hard again just from being that close. Rick wonders if he’s sick; Daryl’s words had been heavy, almost threatening, and here he is, so turned on by it that arousal is creeping up in him again like an old friend. It should feel _wrong_ , but it doesn’t. It really, really doesn’t. And Rick doesn’t know if that should worry him or not.

#

Rick is just heading for the showers when Daryl returns from his hunt. He can hear a few cheers from the cell block behind him, a sure sign that Daryl must have caught and killed a rabbit or squirrel or something that isn’t tinned fucking peas. But Rick keeps walking, sure that Daryl will find him when he wants to, will seek him out when he’s ready. He steels himself for that punch in the face, hoping Daryl will at least miss his nose. He can’t really deal with a broken nose right now.

Sure enough, Rick is right outside the showers when he hears Daryl’s footsteps behind him. He can identify them now by sound, sure and steady and without any of the hesitation that marks the others’ strides. Rick turns as he approaches, steps backward through the doorway and watches Daryl coming closer. His crossbow is still slung across his back, and he stops a few feet away to give Rick an odd smile, a knowing one. It forms goosebumps all up and down Rick’s arms and he shivers.

“Look, Daryl -” he begins, but Daryl cuts him off, takes another step.

“Imagine my surprise, Rick. Goin’ up there to get my poncho and finding what you did. Left me a real mess. Didn’t even hide it well.”

Rick swallows hard, takes a step back when Daryl takes one forward.

“Daryl -” Rick tries again, but Daryl interrupts once more.

“It’s funny, I didn’t even have to look at what you did before I knew what you were doin’ up there. Whole damn tower _reeks_ of sex, Rick. Nice to know you don’t even have to have someone with you for it to smell like that.”

Rick’s breath hitches hard in his throat, and he takes another step backward. Daryl takes one toward him. Then there’s nowhere left to go, Rick’s backed against a wall, and Daryl closes the distance between them quickly. Rick starts to speak again, starts to apologise, but Daryl cuts him off.

“That what turns you on, Rick?” Daryl asks, reaching up to run his fingertips down the inside of Rick’s arm, a move that shouldn’t leave Rick practically shuddering with want, but does. “Coming all over my stuff like that? That get you all riled up?”

Rick can’t breathe, can’t speak, doesn’t move when Daryl puts a hand up to run through Rick’s hair. His fingers twist in Rick’s curls and tug his head back just a little, only half-rough, and Daryl steps in close, shoves one leg in between Rick’s thighs. And then, without warning, he’s got his mouth on Rick’s neck, his tongue in the hollow of his throat, and Rick goes shaky at the knees. Daryl’s teeth catch on Rick’s collarbone and his voice comes out all dirty and gritty when he says, “If that’s the case, you shoulda just said so.”

Rick makes a sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper. “M’sorry,” he pants.

“Don’t be,” Daryl says. “C’mon, Rick. Show me how you did it.” But he already seems to know. His thigh pushes up hard between Rick’s legs, against Rick’s cock, and Rick can’t help himself any more than he could before. He rocks his hips forward, starts damn near riding Daryl’s leg like a mounting dog, eyes shut tight and mouth open with the utterly exquisite friction. He can’t quite believe this, even as it’s happening, that Daryl not only hasn’t punched him but seems intent on making all of Rick’s dreams come true in one fell swoop.

Daryl pulls away after a minute, leaves Rick shaking with need. His eyes open and Daryl swims before him in pinpricks of light, a little blurry, has a look on his face that Rick has never seen before. There’s an absolutely devilish smirk and darkening, lust-filled eyes, more black than blue now.

“You think about me?” Daryl asks. “While you got off on my things?”

Rick shivers, nods. “Yes,” he whispers.

“Tell me.”

“Was imagining the way you’d fuck me,” Rick admits, and the desperation is building in him again, with Daryl’s fingers creeping beneath the waist of his jeans, just enough to touch Rick’s skin, not enough to do anything else. But it feels like flames licking at him, just the impression of Daryl’s fingertips.

“That what you want me to do Rick? You want me to fuck you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Rick says.

“Say it,” Daryl commands.

“Fuck me, please, _I need it_ …” And Daryl didn’t tell him to beg, but Rick is sure as shit not too proud to. 

Daryl’s hands move to his belt, trace the buckle, tug at it as if he’s just about to pull it free and _ohplease **yes**_ , but then he’s pulling away, smirking at Rick. “Maybe later.”

And he turns and walks away, leaving Rick alone and hard and wanting him so badly it almost hurts. Rick stands against the wall for several long minutes before he can find the brainpower to get himself to move. It occurs to him only when the water is pouring over him, and his cock is in his fist again, that Daryl is the biggest _tease_ left on God’s green earth.

#

Later, as it turns out, in the Dictionary of Daryl Dixon, is not _later today_. Rick waits two whole days, two _agonising_ days, before Daryl even shows any sign of coming back to him. It’s when they’re all sitting down for dinner and Rick is staring woefully into his plate like the saddest sack alive, knee bouncing under the table anxiously. It’s when he hears Daryl answering a question.

“...love to but I’m goin’ out on watch. Rick’s gonna help me.”

Rick’s head snaps up at the sound of his name, and he meets Daryl’s eyes, heart rate increasing automatically, knee suddenly jumping faster like Daryl’s pulling puppet strings in him. He knows he wanted this, wanted Daryl in control like this, but that was before he knew his fantasies would come to life, before he knew Daryl was a such a fucking cocktease. 

Carol stares between them, one eyebrow raised. There’s knowing suspicion in her voice when she says, “Since when does it take two people to do watch duty? At _night_?” 

Daryl stares directly at Rick when he replies, “Since I know how much Rick loves watch duty. He was up there a couple mornings ago before anyone was even awake. He’s _that_ dedicated. Ain’t that right, Rick?”

Rick swallows, gives the barest of nods, and the restless feeling is starting up again. He’s gonna have to excuse himself before long. He can’t just sit there and pitch a fucking tent in his jeans with his son and baby daughter and the rest of his ever-growing extended family sitting right there by his side.

“I don’t know,” Maggie says helpfully, and there’s a knowing look in her eye, too. She swaps grins with Glenn. “Rick looks a little flushed. He might be comin’ down with somethin’. Maybe it’s best he stays inside so Daddy can keep a close eye on him.”

“Fresh air would help,” Rick blurts automatically. “In fact, it would help right now.” He jumps up and like a kid who just got caught with his hand in a cookie jar, turns tail and almost runs out, a chorus of soft snickers following him.

#

Rick is pacing along the outside of the tower, hand brushing along the rails, when he finally spots Daryl coming out of the prison toward him, just as the sun is starting to set. He’s been up here for a half hour already, nervous, cock hard enough to almost hurt. He’s thought about starting by himself a couple times, but there wasn’t a guarantee he wouldn’t come in two minutes flat just imagining again the things Daryl might do to him. At this point, a stiff breeze could probably finish him off. He grips the rail and then steps back inside the tower, waiting. Waiting.

When Daryl finally appears, like an apparition, Rick takes a quick step toward him but stops when Daryl holds up a hand. “Jesus christ, Rick. So eager, aren’t you?”

“You been teasin’ me for _two days_ ,” Rick grinds out between his teeth. “I was eager two days ago. Now I’m fucking _desperate_.” It’s not like he has to tell Daryl that; his voice is laced with every bit of the need and want that he feels. Daryl himself sounds grittier, heavier, and he’s giving Rick some of the most intense bedroom eyes he’s ever seen. 

“Seems like you been desperate for months,” Daryl prompts, and if he wants a confession, he’s gonna get one. 

Rick takes a step closer, digs his fingers into Daryl’s shirt this time and yanks him close. “I’ve been desperate since the day I met you, only I didn’t know it ‘til we were on the road after the farm. Just bein’ close to you like that… started to want things. Want you. Couple days ago I finally gave in, let myself go crazy thinkin’ about you.” Rick lets out a hard breath, releases Daryl. “Those blankets just smelled like you and I… couldn’t help myself. Didn’t even wanna try to.” 

Daryl is looking at him with something he can’t place, and Rick waits a very long minute for the hunter to say something. Only he doesn’t. Instead, he leans in and kisses Rick, claims his mouth in one quick motion, hand coming up to the back of Rick’s neck. It’s everything Rick thought kissing Daryl would be - passion and heat and need, all there on Daryl’s tongue, on his lips. Rick groans into his mouth, kisses back hard, only pulls back when he needs air. He lets his teeth catch on Daryl’s bottom lip, biting gently before he pulls away completely. 

They stare at each other for a moment, both breathless, and then the dam is broken. Before Rick can even think straight, he’s on his back, on top of the same blankets from days ago, still unwashed, still with him all over them. The thought is making him harder, if that’s even possible, and he can’t breathe when he feels Daryl on top of him. Daryl’s hips grind into his, making Rick feel every inch of him (and there’s a lot there to feel) against his cock.

“Can’t believe you let this go for two days…” Rick gasps between kisses, hands on Daryl’s hips, pulling him against him as he rocks his hips downward. 

“Teachin’ you a lesson,” Daryl says with an absolutely filthy grin. “See, I don’t mind you comin’ all over my stuff, Rick, but wash that poncho at the very least. You know how hard dried come is to get out of material like that?”

He says it like he knows, and Rick can’t help the sharp burst of laughter that leaves him. 

“Noted. For next time.”

“Next time...” Daryl says, kissing Rick again, swiping his tongue over Rick’s before pulling back. “Next time, you can just come down my throat.”

Rick shudders, hands trying to go between them to get Daryl’s pants open, before Daryl smacks them away. 

“Come _on_ …” Rick pleads.

“Dirty little thing like you don’t get to touch just yet,” Daryl says, looking entirely too smug. He sits up on Rick’s thighs, effectively pinning him to the floor, and takes off his shirt. If Daryl were ever embarrassed about the multitude of scars that cover him like cross-stitching, he doesn’t show it now. He trusts Rick, and Rick knows it. Either way, his body is beautiful, and if Rick can’t touch him yet, he’s gonna at least get some relief for himself. Only, when he reaches down toward his own belt, Daryl smacks his hands away from there, too. 

“Didn’t mean you could touch _that_ either. You just lie there and behave, Grimes.” 

Rick squirms, the need so bad it almost stings in his veins like pins and needles. Daryl goes slow, takes his time in popping open the button on his pants. The sunset is painting the sky a gorgeous palette of pinks and oranges, and Daryl is lit from behind like a fucking angel. Frankly, Rick is convinced he might be, even if his every unhurried, tantalising action seems nothing less than evil. Rick tries to move again, but Daryl, knees on either side of him, squeezes them tighter around his thighs and sits down more firmly. 

“Don’t think you even _know_ how to behave, do you?” Daryl asks, finally getting his zipper down. 

Rick groans low in his throat; Daryl, in his infinite wisdom, has foregone boxers completely. “Clearly, _you_ don’t know how to either,” Rick shoots back, using every bit of strength he’s got left to keep his hands still, to not reach out and touch Daryl. 

He stays seated on Rick’s thighs, curls one hand around himself, strokes slow and light in a way Rick thinks has gotta be torture. Daryl’s head goes back and he moans loudly, a sound that makes Rick shiver. When Daryl looks down at Rick, he’s smiling that smug little grin again. 

“This how you did it out here the other mornin’, Rick? Or did you just rub yourself off on my stuff like a horny teenager?”

Rick looks away from Daryl, just for a second, but it’s enough to give Daryl the definitive truth, and he laughs, finally reaches down to touch Rick. He palms Rick roughly through his jeans, and Rick can’t stop himself from trying to push up against his hand. 

“Jesus christ, c’mon, Daryl, _please_ , I can’t wait anymore,” he says in a rush, and Daryl finally decides to have some mercy on him. 

He keeps talking while he gets Rick’s jeans open, sitting back far enough only to tug them and his boxers down just enough to be able to touch Rick. “So ready for me, look at you.” The head of his cock is slick with precome already, and Rick curses loudly when Daryl swipes his thumb over his slit, spreads it down around the whole head before he slides his hand slowly down the shaft, grips tight and moves back up, the slightest twist of his hand at the head enough to make Rick crazy. “Should just tell everyone you’re not gonna get any work done anymore. Gonna come to me all hours of the day, lookin’ for me to fuck you.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Rick whimpers, because Daryl’s probably not wrong. He doesn’t know how he can go without this, knowing now what it’s like to have Daryl’s hands on him. Even when it’s not like _this_ , Rick craves his nearness, wants Daryl in close proximity so he can anchor himself to him, so he can feel their shoulders brush now and then and know Daryl is always there. Even before this, that has always been true.

“Tell me how you imagined me fucking you, Rick.”

Rick laughs breathlessly, pushing his hips up, not getting anywhere with Daryl still sitting on top of him. “You ever hear that song way back when… Face Down, Ass Up?”

Daryl grins, moves so fast that Rick doesn’t know from one second to the next how he ends up on his knees, face back against the blankets. He breathes in hard, inhales a mix of himself and Daryl and moans. “Like this?” Daryl asks.

Rick mumbles an affirmation as Daryl drags his jeans down further over his ass, and without any word of a warning, spreads Rick’s cheeks apart and starts licking Rick open. Rick moans so loud it _echoes_ around the guard tower, and he gets goosebumps all up and down his thighs when Daryl pulls back and spits right on his hole, starts rubbing a finger over it, rough and unyielding. 

“Jesus fuckin’ _Christ_ , Daryl!” Rick is dizzy with arousal, desire, and Daryl is building on it tenfold, working one finger into him and leaning in to lick around it until Rick is close to sobbing. He’s pleading, not even sure for what at this point, just more of whatever Daryl is willing to give him because he cannot get enough.

“Want another one?” Daryl asks, doesn’t wait for an answer before he starts pressing in a second finger alongside the first, stretching Rick out. His teeth nip at Rick’s ass. “Greedy fuckin’ hole you got, Rick. So desperate for me.”

If Rick were to have gambled on Daryl having such a filthy mouth… well, he wouldn’t have, because this is entirely unexpected. Even though he follows Rick’s lead without question any other time, he is confident in his own leadership here with Rick, alone, under the blazing sunset. It’s the sexiest thing Rick thinks he’s ever seen in his entire life. Rick’s hands curl into the blankets hard, and he tries to push back on Daryl’s fingers, his tongue. Then Daryl’s free hand is reaching around him, gripping his cock, stroking hard and fast, and Rick starts to lose it.

“Stop - Daryl, Jesus, _fuck_ , I’m gonna come!”

Daryl lets him go, slides his fingers free of Rick, and it feels just like the moment right before you go over the drop of a rollercoaster, then sliding backward. Rick is shaking like an earthquake and he collapses against the blankets, whimpering, clouded mind clearing only just slightly.

“Ain’t gonna let you come yet, Rick. You been waitin’ this long, you can wait a little longer,” Daryl tells him, leaning over him to whisper in his ear. His cock is rubbing against Rick’s ass, and that alone feels unbelievably good. “Now, you gonna get that pretty mouth of yours on my dick, or what?”

Rick turns over, eager to finally get to touch in return, to give back to Daryl some of what he’s been getting. He sits up and Daryl takes his place, lies back and lets Rick go to work. Rick goes slow at first, as slow as Daryl did, but it doesn’t take long for Daryl to knot his fingers in Rick’s curls. “God, that’s - yeah, Rick, c’mon, _suck it_ … so good…” 

Rick sucks only at the tip first, tongue laving over the slit and then down just under the head. He takes as much as he can after that, ‘cause Daryl isn’t small, lies heavy and thick on his tongue and in his throat, but god, hearing him groaning Rick’s name is worth every second of the ache in his jaw. 

Daryl’s hips buck upward and he starts fucking Rick’s mouth, and Rick is grateful that he’s holding back a little, because he just doesn’t think he can take it all at once. But it’s good and Rick likes it, likes getting Daryl off like this, likes being the one responsible for those sounds he’s making. His hand curls gently around Daryl’s balls, stroking and playing with them until Daryl is pulling his head away.

“Christ, Rick,” he says, breathless and blissful. “You’re incredible.”

Rick raises an eyebrow, smirks at Daryl, one hand stroking up over Daryl’s cock, slick and wet now with precome and saliva. “You’re givin’ me a hell of a lot to work with,” he answers, and Daryl rolls his eyes. 

“Ain’t that big.”

Rick shakes his head. “And they tell me _I’m_ crazy. You are that big, and you need to get that in me right now.”

Daryl sits up, smirking. “Who’s givin’ orders here, Grimes?”

“Oh, I’m not givin’ orders,” Rick says with a grin, kicking his boots off and finally getting his jeans all the way down and off. He straddles Daryl’s lap so his cock is settled right against Rick’s ass again. “I’m _begging_.”

Daryl shivers. He keeps one arm around Rick’s waist to keep him right there and digs into the pocket of his pants for a little bottle of lube. “Knew I was gonna need this one day. Picked it up months ago.” 

“Oh, you _knew_ , huh?” Rick says.

“Knew you were pinin’ for me like a sad little puppy,” Daryl quips, “and that eventually you’d give into it. Into me.”

“You’re the devil, Daryl Dixon,” Rick says, all affection and want. He takes the bottle from Daryl, spreads warm liquid into his palm and reaches around behind him to get Daryl ready. After that, it’s easy, and Rick doesn’t even bother to get Daryl completely out of his pants before he’s slowly sliding down on his cock, moaning and arching backward while Daryl holds onto his hips and pushes up into him hard. Rick makes a broken noise, thighs quivering, only able to focus on how fucking _full_ he feels. 

Daryl closes his eyes, tilts his head back, baring his throat. He swallows hard, gasping, fingers digging into Rick’s skin. “Fuck, you’re so tight around me, Rick, feels amazing -” His fingers stroke along Rick’s cock, feather light touches that make Rick’s hips jerk, that make him whimper Daryl’s name along with a plea for more.

Rick presses himself against Daryl, sucks and bites at his neck, well aware he’s going to leave marks and not caring at all. He rolls his hips, takes Daryl slow and deep, moving in his lap while continuing to kiss along his neck, his shoulders, one hand roaming Daryl’s chest, playing with and pinching his nipples. 

“You’re right,” he says on a shaky moan, “m’gonna want this all the time, Daryl. You feel so good in me, just wanna do this all night.” Daryl is hitting somewhere close to Rick’s prostate, he can feel it, the dull throb of pleasure pulsing through him with every thrust. 

“Good, ‘cause we’re gonna do this every damn day Rick,” Daryl says on a gasp, and then he’s turning them around, laying Rick down on his back without ever leaving his body, thrusting in harder, Rick’s legs around his waist, heels digging into his lower back. “Gonna fuck all that stress you always got right outta you ‘til the only thing you know how to say is my name.”

“Daryl!”

“See, you got it down already,” Daryl pants, breathless with pleasure and amusement. He leans over Rick, hand curling around his cock again and on one strong, hard thrust, finds that spot that makes Rick absolutely howl. Daryl grunts and Rick arches up off the blankets, a stream of cuss words and Daryl’s name pouring out of his mouth.

“Please, _fuck, Daryl_ , fuck me, holy shit, Daryl, _please_!”

Rick is close now, doesn’t know how he’s even lasted this long with Daryl’s tongue and fingers and cock on him and in him. Every thrust sends euphoric shockwaves through him that are sweet as raw sugar, that make him push back against Daryl as if he could take him deeper, and wouldn’t _that_ be paradise. 

Daryl’s movements are starting to get shaky, and he’s leaning in, kissing along Rick’s jaw now, murmuring to him. “Love you, Rick, you know that? Wanted you for so long.”

“Me too,” Rick gasps, “always loved you.” And it’s truer than anything, Rick realises then. That he’s always loved Daryl. Something about him connected with Rick from the moment they met and maybe it took him a while to figure it out, but it’s always been lingering in the back of his mind, and it’s the reason that he comes alive just that little bit more when Daryl’s around. 

“C’mon, Rick, come for me. Know you wanna,” Daryl urges, and it’s clear that he’s close too, that he’s right on the edge, that Rick is giving him something he really has wanted for longer than Rick could know. “C’mon, lemme see it, wanna see you come.”

That’s all it takes, and Rick is lost with Daryl’s hand around him and Daryl inside him, still fucking him through his orgasm. Every second of it feels like an hour, and Rick comes all over Daryl’s hand, all over his own stomach, and on the blankets, too, a much better version of his sunrise alone up here. 

Daryl makes an utterly sinful sound that Rick would give his whole life just to hear again and again, and then he’s coming too, inside of Rick. Rick can feel the warmth and it makes him lock his legs tighter around Daryl’s waist, hold him close inside of him while he rides out his release, one hand finding one of Rick’s and holding tight, the other still slowly stroking over Rick’s cock and making him shudder. 

Daryl comes down slow, pulls free of Rick only after he catches his breath, and Rick feels the absence of him like an intense sense of loss. He can feel Daryl’s seed dripping back out of him and his dick gives an interested twitch, as if he’s still fourteen and this could happen again that fast. Daryl lies down next to him and curls against his side, sighing heavily. 

“Really gonna have to wash all these now,” he says with a little laugh, that drawl of his gone lazy, soft and sweet around the edges of his words.

“Mm,” Rick agrees sleepily, fingers pulling aside a couple layers of blankets to find Daryl’s poncho still in the middle. “Least I missed the poncho this time.”

“Lucky,” Daryl murmurs, “else I’d have to teach you another lesson.”

Rick grins, turns his head to catch Daryl’s lips in a kiss. “Oh, you can teach me everything,” he says and they both laugh. “I’m _always_ willing to learn from you.” There’s a pause and Rick says soberly, “I’m yours, y’know, Daryl. I think it was always gonna end up that way.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agrees. “And don’t for one second think that don’t go both ways.” His fingers tangle up loosely with Rick’s again, and he runs his thumb repeatedly across Rick’s palm. It’s a gentle tickling sensation that makes Rick want to lie here and fall asleep with Daryl, cleaning up be damned.

Rick falls into a comfortable silence with Daryl, the only sound their soft sighs when they kiss. The sun is almost gone now, just a hint of orange at the horizon, fading into a dusky blue-black sky, a handful of stars visible in the darkest parts. There’s a lot of appeal in watching the way nature remains constant, even here at the end of the world. Watching the sunrises and sunsets and seeking out the constellations is more of a gift now than it’s ever been. But he’s got his own star now, too, burning bright and steady, right next to him. Rick thinks of himself as only burning bright these days because he’s gone supernova, threatening to fade more and more all the time. But Daryl won’t ever burn out, and that’s why Rick trusts and _loves _him so much. Because even if Rick goes dark forever, Daryl will still be there to guide him home.__


End file.
